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by thisishowwelearntobebrave



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7004392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisishowwelearntobebrave/pseuds/thisishowwelearntobebrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of not trusting anyone, can Mark finally break down her carefully-built walls and give her a real place to call home?</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while back with someone else in mind, but since kpop took over my life, I decided it fit Mark pretty well. I'm just dipping my toes into writing again, but if I get some good feedback, maybe I'll start sharing more...heated stuff...lol. Please tell me if I made any mistakes because this is unbeta'd. Thanks!

They had run, screaming and giggling, from the car to the front door through the sudden downpour, still finding themselves soaked to the skin by the time they reached the safety of the house. “Oh, my goodness. I think we should have remembered to bring an umbrella,” she said, laughing at the state of them both. “Well, the forecast didn’t exactly prepare us for this deluge,” he giggled back, trying to slick his hair out of his eyes without dripping MORE water on the floor, without much success. She couldn’t help watching Mark, losing herself for a moment in the motion of his long fingers through his wet locks, the way his shirt was stuck to the long lines of him. She could clearly see the shape of strong shoulders and lean, flat stomach beneath the thin, now soaking wet, t-shirt he was wearing, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She didn’t realize she was staring until he spoke again. “Y/N? Are you ok?” She shook her head to clear it, her face flushing as she busied herself with hurrying to the linen closet at the end of the hallway. He couldn’t stop the grin, but he was careful not to let her see it...yet.

“Here, I know a towel isn’t going to help much, but we can’t just stand here dripp--” she didn’t get to finish the sentence before she lost her footing on the slippery floor and felt herself falling, as if in slow motion. She could see the ceiling, and distantly heard him calling her name, and she braced herself for the impact of her head hitting the floor---but it never came. Somehow, Mark had reached her before she landed and gracefully spun her around so that he would be the one taking the brunt of the impact instead of her, and---

“Ouch!” he said, winded from the impact. Suddenly, she was not on her back in the wet floor, but instead facing him lying there beneath her, his hands searching to be sure she was uninjured. He had one hand on the back of her head, cradling her to his chest, his other hand in the middle of her back, holding her tightly to him. She pulled back slightly to look him in the eye; to ensure he was ok. She raised her head and for one breathless moment, they only looked into each other’s eyes...then he snorted. He actually giggled out loud! She looked at him like he was crazy for a moment before she joined him, both of them laughing till their sides were hurting and tears joined the trails of rain already on their faces. 

“You were like a ninja the way you did that.” she said, and it set him to laughing even harder. “It was all that dance training, I think.” he answered back, waggling an eyebrow at her. “Made me all stealthy and limber.” For a little longer, they giggled like little kids, until they finally caught breath and were still. The laughter had suddenly ended, and the only sounds to be heard in the room were the thunder from the storm outside, their panting breaths, and two racing heartbeats trying to outdo one another. From his place on the floor, he raised his head to look her in the eye, reaching to trail his fingers down her cheek. At the soft brush of contact, her breath caught in her throat, and she licked her suddenly-dry lips and swallowed, willing the flush that was coloring her cheeks to go away before he noticed...too late. “You flush so prettily, darling. Pink cheeks, hair like satin, eyes shining, and those pretty, plump rosy lips.” He was following the words with a heated glance to each part of her he named, and when his eyes finally fell to her lips, his thumb was already there, brushing softly against her bottom lip. Her tongue flickered out to wet her lips, and brushed the tip of his thumb, drawing a gasp and a soft moan from him.

She waited, breathlessly, watching him move ever closer, until she finally became impatient and leaned to close the gap between their mouths. The kiss was slow and gentle at first, just a brushing of lips until he moved slightly back to look for any sign of rejection or hint that he may have moved things along too fast, but he found none. Encouraged, he kissed her again, harder this time, mouths sucking and moving over and over. He continued, deepening the kiss by parting her lips with the pressure of his. She pressed her body down harder onto him, moving until she was essentially astride his slim hips beneath her. Her hands had found their way up and were tangled gently in his hair. He must have liked this, if the desperate sounds rumbling up from his chest were any indication. In between panting breaths and little flickers of tongue, the kiss became a litany of moans spilling from one of them to the other over and over. One of his long-fingered hands wound itself into the damp locks at the nape of her neck, the other was pressed at the base of her spine, pulling her hips tight against his, leaving no her doubt as to the effect it was having on him. Neither of them knew how far it would have gone if the blaring sound of his cell phone hadn’t interrupted them. She pulled away first, her breathing heavy as she fought to focus her eyes again. Because his phone was in his pocket, she had to lift herself slightly to give him room to retrieve it, a task which proved even more difficult because his jeans were wet from the rain. 

She tried to get up off of him, but he held her there, imploring with his eyes to wait while he answered the phone call. Sitting up, he pulled her close, closing his eyes, and resting his forehead on hers as he handled the call. His free hand gently stroked from her cheek, to her neck, and down her arm to lace their fingers together as he talked. When he was done, he laid the phone on the floor beside him and reached up to gently cup her face in his hands. Neither of them spoke, but no words were needed, only the feeling of being close, breathing the same breath, heartbeats fluttering together. She pulled herself out of the moment first. “Um, we should get dry before we end up sick…” “I know,” he said, not moving from his place, his hands still cradling her face, his eyes still searching hers. “I just can’t seem to stop touching you, Y/N.” he said, his voice trembling, his accent thicker in his desire. “When I’m away from you even for a little while, it hurts,” he said, “I think about you day and night; you are in my dreams. I can’t tear my mind away from thinking of when I’ll see you next, of that breathtaking smile, of how sweet your laughter sounds...” She kept still, her eyes flickering back and forth from his mouth to his eyes, her hands convulsing gently at the front of his wet shirt. She could feel his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, could feel him holding himself back. The thought of all his control locking him still so as not to scare her away brought chills. She shivered uncontrollably. His eyes flickered up, concerned as he spoke: “Are you cold, Y/N?” She didn’t trust her voice, so she only shook her head. 

He knew that she had been hurt badly in the past. She had told him everything, even the nightmares that plagued her years later, the fear she still fought against everyday... He had held her close, kissed her softly, cried with her, even, and gave her his word that he would never hurt her. That night, and his words were burned into her memory forever: “I know I can’t take away all the pain you've been through...I can’t change the past. But I can give you something even better--a new beginning, here, with me...if you’ll have me.” His eyes were still shining with tears, no shame on his face as others already shed trailed down his own cheeks, his fingers so gentle on her face as she watched him. She struggled with letting go; wanted so much to believe him. It was so hard to let anyone near her again. She had kept herself so guarded for so many years it hurt. She was tired of feeling like she had to keep the real her locked behind so many protective barriers that no one ever got a chance to see who she really was. Only her friends, her housemates, who had been with her through it all, really knew her. She was taking a big leap trusting him, but she had finally had enough of being alone, of missing out on life. He had come into her life like a breath of fresh air. He was charming, funny, vivacious. He made her feel alive again; more alive than she had felt for years. That night was their first kiss, and it was beautiful, sweet, and breathtaking. She’d never felt like that with anyone before, and he confessed that he hadn’t, either. From that moment on, they had been nearly inseparable. 

Bringing her gently back to the present, he said her name softly. She focused her gaze on his blue eyes once again, and smiled nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know where I went just now.” He smiled, too, and pulled her close, wrapping her in his long arms. “The only thing that matters is that you are here, with me...where you belong,” he said. She breathed in the smell of him: soap, faded cologne, coffee, and mint from the gum he’d been chewing earlier. It was comforting in a way she couldn’t explain. His arms felt like home, and she’d never felt that safe with anyone else before. He was her home, and she never wanted to leave.


End file.
